


you woke the world (inside of me)

by godsensei



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Collaboration, Digital Art, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 12:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godsensei/pseuds/godsensei
Summary: He was gawked at then, too. Being part of the Queen’s Command had been an honor and a burden, all at once. The Royal Family had never been cruel, like other leaders. They ruled with a sense of justice and peace. Unfortunately, not all kingdoms operated like that, and he’d lost an arm, a wing, and himself in the fray of it.





	you woke the world (inside of me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pythagoreanpineapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythagoreanpineapple/gifts).



> my absolutely beautiful and wonderful friend @pythagoreanpineapple (on tumblr) graciously agreed to do a collab with me! We decided to each draw a picture for one another based on a prompt (I love her mermaids, so I asked for a mermaid) and send the lineart to one another so that we could color one another’s picture! The art included below is her coloring, my lineart! Please reblog it on tumblr when you get the chance! 
> 
> Anyway, this prompt inspired me so much, I wrote a ficlet for it. Who knows! I might continue with this!

The river is Shiro’s safe place. At least, this area of it is.

 

From the babbling of water against pebble, to the soft wind carried through rustling leaves, there’s nothing about this place Shiro doesn’t like. It’s far enough away from the village that he feels safe enough to lay his burdens down, remove his prosthetic, and just be.

 

He doesn’t feel like this much.

 

Since the end of his service to the Queen, he’s been all out of sorts. People stare at him as he walks by, whispering all kinds of sordid tales about him. He’s heard them all before. He understands _why_ \-- a missing arm, a broken, useless wing-- but that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it.

 

He was gawked at then, too. Being part of the Queen’s Command had been an honor and a burden, all at once. The Royal Family had never been cruel, like other leaders. They ruled with a sense of justice and peace. Unfortunately, not all kingdoms operated like that, and he’d lost an arm, a wing, and himself in the fray of it.

 

The queen had wanted him to stay.  _The prince_ had wanted him to stay. But the daytime and nighttime terrors, the loss, and the danger he felt within himself urged him away. It had been the hardest decision he’d ever made.

 

He’s doing better, now. He’s been keeping to himself, mostly, and working with a healer-- Allura, of a lost people. She works pure magic of that he’s never seen, and he’s grateful to her every day for how much more he feels like himself by the day.

 

He isn’t without friends, here. There’s Coran, the local barkeep, longtime friend and guardian of Allura. He has all sorts of wisdom packed in that noggin of his, and always a tidbit of advice, if you buy a pint. He’s fatherly in a way that Shiro hasn’t experienced, all with a smile on his face.

 

There’s Hunk, the local baker and tavern owner. He serves the most warming meat pie Shiro’s ever tasted, something that soothes the ache of cold away on rainy days. Pidge comes along with Hunk, a very intelligent inventor of sorts. She’s always coming up with something or another, most likely to pass the time as she waits of word from her brother, Matt, who is traveling abroad.

 

He misses Keith, who took his place in the Queen’s Command. Keith would love it out here-- in the quiet and peace, but Shiro knows he loves adventure just as much. There would be no satisfaction in pulling him away from that, just to ease some of the loneliness he feels when friends are not enough and he needs  _family._

 

Speaking of, he misses the royal family… very much. But… he misses his charge more than _anything._

 

Lance, the youngest Prince of the royal family, and who he was appointed to give his life for when Lance came of age.

 

In some ways, Shiro had been but a child when they’d met, though he certainly didn’t feel like it at the time. He’d thought Lance was too young-- obnoxious and spoiled, to boot. Shiro had felt, at first, that he was more of a babysitter. Lance quickly proved him wrong.

 

Where Shiro had been expecting a lazy, entitled brat, he got a hard worker, thirsty to prove himself. Where Shiro had expected stubbornness and prudishness, he got willingness to put pride aside and a wicked sense of humor.

 

Lance can definitely still be obnoxious and spoiled, even now, but watching him learn and grow, and learning _with_ him had been a great source of pride for Shiro. Lance grew into a fine young man, and a capable leader.

 

Still… sometimes, it worries him sick to think of not being able to protect him, to be so far away from him. Lance fights alongside his men and women in combat. Shiro can do _nothing_ if word comes to him of Lance. His wings can no longer carry him (despite Pidge’s insistence to let her try to fix them with some invention or another), and the citadel is many days walk by foot.

 

Shiro shakes his head. It won’t do to plague himself with negative thoughts. Allura always advises him to speak abundance into the world, and he tries his hardest to heed her wisdom. He owes her as much.

 

Shucking his shirt off, he flutters his wings (ignoring the old hurts he’s gotten used to), opening them up and letting the sun shine on them. It’s a warm day, but not so hot as others have been, and a good day to get some washing done.  

 

He sets about his chores, thinking fondly of days much like this one, when he was with Lance and there were no wars beckoning them close to death.

 

Lance’s smile is breathtaking, he remembers. His nose, covered in light freckles from being in the sun too long, crinkles when he laughs. And he laughs with his entire body, wings lifting him from the ground, legs kicked out in front of him. Shiro had never been able to look away from him when he laughed, no matter how important the person talking to him was.

 

The Queen had realized his feelings, Shiro is sure. He’d been so transparent even _Keith_ had warned him away from Lance. There was nothing Keith could say-- the damage was already done the moment Shiro had met him.

 

He throws the last of his clothes into his basket, buttons his shirt back up. He’ll have to pin the wet clothes up when he gets home, but he doesn’t want to go home yet. Instead, he sets the basket on the bank and then wades back into the calm of the river, sitting down on a flat rock with his feet in the cool water. It feels wonderful.

 

He lets the sun soak into his bones, lets the wind whisper through his hair (which is long now), and enjoys the peace of the moment.

 

He’s unsure how long he’s sitting there before he hears a set of wings, distinct and musical, a sound he can never forget.

 

Turning, he catches sight of Lance the moment he breaks through the treeline. Lance scans the open area with narrow eyes before he sees him.

 

And there is that smile again, knocking the air right from Shiro’s lungs.

 

Lance flits over like he hasn’t been trained in propriety, slowing when he gets closer.

 

“I thought I’d find you here,” he says, his voice a silver bell. His blues eyes speak mischief and excitement, biting his lip as if he’s been shy a day in his life. There’s a gardenia tucked behind his ear, pure white and beautiful against his skin tone.

 

“Where’s your contingent?” Shiro asks, trying to keep his voice stern, but it’s hard when he’s so relieved and happy to see Lance, safe and _here_ .   


“I lost them,” Lance says simply, shrugging.

 

_I wanted to see you,_ he means.

 

“I taught Keith better than that, I think,” Shiro comments, licking his lips.

 

“It’s easy to appeal to Keith’s better nature,” he replies, and Shiro snorts.

 

_Keith helped_ , he means.

 

“I hope you were being safe. Does the Queen know where you are?” Shiro asks, seriously. She’ll worry herself to an early death with her youngest gone.

 

“Yes. Shiro--” Lance cuts himself off, eyebrows furrowing. “Takashi.”

 

Shiro closes his eyes. He wants Lance to say his name a million times. He wants Lance to take his last name and make it his own. He wants so many things he can’t have.

 

“Takashi,” Lance tries again, closer. Shiro can feel the wind from his wings against his face, so he opens his eyes.  
  


 

Lance is hovering over him where he sits, flower from his hair in hand. His face is so full with emotion that the breath catches in Shiro’s throat, holding him still.

 

Reaching forward, Lance touches him just over his heart. He tucks the flower behind Shiro’s ear, interweaving the stem between a strand of hair so it won’t fall out.

 

“I missed you,” Lance admits, a blush taking over his face, and Shiro nods.

 

“I haven’t stopped thinking of you since last we were together,” Shiro says, and Lance--with his heart the way it is-- his face falters, tears springing to his lashes. Shiro can’t stand it, never wanted to cause him pain. It’s the reason he’s away-- so he can get better and be better.

 

“I want to be with you.” Lance sounds so small, his voice watery.

 

Shiro lets himself reach for him then, standing up and pulling him into his arms. Lance’s feet end up in the water as he drops down from his hovering, but he doesn’t seem to care as he tucks his face into the crook of Shiro’s shoulder.

 

They stand there for a while, nothing but the sounds nature surrounding them. Eventually, Lance pulls away, wiping his face with the palm of his hand and smiling up at Shiro.

 

“Mama is angry that you didn’t visit for her birthday celebration,” he says, and Shiro laughs.

 

“How could she miss me when the whole of the citadel is there to celebrate?”

 

“Nobody can replace you,” Lance says, pushing him slightly. Shiro knows he means it.

 

He lets himself look at Lance again, this close up. His freckles are out again from the summer sun, and his hair is longer, curlier. He’s always been beautiful-- light eyes and dark skin, a lithe frame with broad shoulders-- but Shiro is still blown away by the attraction he feels just by looking at him.

 

He stirs such a need in Shiro, to be closer, to  _have_.

 

“What?” Lance asks, and Shiro caresses his face, running his thumb over his full lips. He ducks down without much thought other than desire, capturing his mouth.

 

Lance sucks in a surprised breath through his nose, anchoring his hands against Shiro, but giving in so easily. His eyes flutter closed, dark lashes brushing his cheeks as he opens up to Shiro.

 

His mouth tastes like blueberries when Shiro licks inside, using his one hand to hold Lance’s jaw and manipulate him to exactly where he wants his mouth. He tilts his head to kiss him deeper, sucking a lip between his to worry at it.

 

_God_ , he could have him right here-- strip him of his intricate clothes and possess him until he can think of nothing else but Shiro inside of him.

 

Shiro pulls himself away, letting their mouths hover centimeters from each other. He can feel the warm of Lance’s breath, how he pants against him. He lets their lips meet again, and again, sweet and open-mouthed.

 

“Will you let me stay with you tonight?” Lance asks, peppering kisses along Shiro’s jaw.

 

It’s a dangerous thing, to ask that of him. He wants it. He wants to wake up to Lance’s face in the morning. He wants to pretend they are one another’s.

 

It scares him-- he never knows when his night terrors will come, or if he’ll hurt someone when they do. The last person he ever wants to hurt is Lance.

 

“Lance--” he begins, and Lance kisses him again, urgent and desperate. Shiro responds in kind.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Lance begs, when he pulls away.

 

Shiro rests his forehead against Lance’s, eyes closed.

 

How can he deny Lance of anything?

 

“Okay, but-- Lance, if I  _hurt_ you--”

 

“You won’t. I’m tougher than I look. You know that.”

 

“The Witch, Haggar--”

 

“I know, but I trust you, Shiro.”

 

“That’s what worries me,” Shiro says, wryly. He steps back before he’s tempted to pull Lance in again. “Alright. Help me with my clothes.”

 

“ _Heeey_ \-- I’m here for less than a day and you’re already putting me to work?” Lance whines, but picks up Shiro’s basket for him, propping it on his hip like a mother would her child.

 

“Don’t think that just because you’re visiting means you can get out of training. I used to train you, remember?”

 

“Aww, really?” Lance drags himself towards the direction of the village, going off on a tirade of anything and everything.

 

Shiro smiles, and follows.

  



End file.
